Mothering a Stubborn Child, an update

After Monday night's trauma (ok, so I'm a bit dramatic) of forcing Wild Man to take Motrin to bring his fever down, Archer and I had to do the same thing again on Tuesday morning, Tuesday night, and Wednesday morning, only this time with cough medicine as Wild Man's fever was gone.  Both times, however, we gave him 2 chances to take the medicine on his own.  After the second time he refused we did what has quickly (and a bit alarmingly) become routine.  Archer hugged Wild Man in a bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides and holding his head steady, while I pried his mouth open and shot the medicine into the back of his cheek (a tip from a friend, who said that doing this makes it harder for the child to spit the medicine out, and she was right).  Each time Wild Man cried like his heart was broken, and each time I became more resigned to this method.  By yesterday morning Wild Man actually admitted the cough medicine made him feel better but that he didn't like it and that he didn't want to take it.  I said, "I know, lovey.  I don't like taking medicine either.  But sometimes we have to take medicine to help us get better.  Until you decide to take it on your own, Daddy and I will have to give your medicine this way, which upsets everyone."  As further inducement to get him to take it, Archer and I had not allowed Wild Man to watch his allotted 30 minutes of television a day or to play any of his many puzzle games on my iPod touch.  I thought this would have encouraged him to take it, especially as Wild Man got sent to his room while Bear watched Sesame Street.  No such luck.  This kid is stubborn.

Yesterday I had a thought.  Medicine does suck.  I don't like taking it, but I'm an adult.  I take it because I know it will make me feel and get better.  Wild Man doesn't get this.  All he knows is that we're forcing him to take something that tastes yucky (and I don't care how much artificial flavor, sugar, or corn syrup the manufacturers add to medicine, it still tastes like crap).  Further, we're forcing him to do something he has had absolutely no say in.  So yesterday I took a risk.  When I picked Wild Man up from kindergarten, I took him directly to the drug store without telling him where we were going.  I led him to the kids' medicine section, and I explained he could choose the kind of medicine he wanted to take.  I did explain that I had to read the box to make sure it was the appropriate kind of medicine for his cough and to make sure it was for his age.  He said, "You mean, I get to choose?"  I said, "Yep, you get to choose.  But if you refuse to take it Mommy and Daddy will have to hold your arms and squirt in down your throat just like with the other medicine until you're better."  Something clicked, and suddenly he was interested.  He pointed out a cold medication with an elephant on the box, so I told him what it was.  Then he picked out a nifty kind that melts on the tongue, and he was really interested in this one.  Unfortunately, it is designed for kids 6 or older, which I told him.  He was disappointed, but he picked another one.  After about 15 minutes he had selected a fever medication (chewable, grape-flavored tablets), a cough medicine (grape-flavored liquid), and chewable vitamins (what I didn't say in the previous post is that he was also refusing the chewable vitamins I picked out, ones high in vitamin D b/c, you know, we live in the land where the sun disappears for winter and we're all vitamin D deficient).  He held all three boxes while I paid, and as soon as we got to the car, he asked for a vitamin.  He had selected these vitamins because they have hippos on them, and as many of you know, Wild Man loves hippos.  Coincidentally, they also have the highest amount of vitamin D of any of the children's vitamins in the store, which made me happy.  As soon as I handed it to him, he happily chomped it down.

At bedtime, I told him he needed to take his cough medicine.  He was wary, even after I reminded him that it was the kind he selected.  As I handed him the medicine cup, he looked at me skeptically.  I said, "Remember, you said you'd take it.  It's your choice to take it on your own or not, but if you don't take it, we'll have to squirt it down your throat again."  He looked at me again and then at the medicine, and then he took it, saying afterward, "Hey, that didn't taste so bad, Mommy."  Archer and I both told him how proud we were, and I am.   I'm also proud of us.  I proud that we did what we had to do, and I'm also proud that we figured out a solution to the problem--for now, at least.  The next time Wild Man needs medicine or vitamins I'll happily take him shopping with me so he can choose.  It seems he wants to be involved in the process, and that's fine by me.  But I'll also be prepared to squirt it down his throat if I have to.

And as a bonus, he took his vitamin this morning without incident.  In fact, he asked for it.